


Haha. Nice.

by TuppingLiberty



Series: Tlib Kinktober 2017 [16]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Kinktober 2017, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: Jack has a lot of feelings about Bitty's Puck Bunny costume that can't really be summed up in "Haha. Nice."(aka yet another puck bunny costume fic. More cake! and whatnot)Kinktober Day 18: masturbation





	Haha. Nice.

Poots wasn’t going to be back for awhile - he had a girlfriend here in Vancouver. Jack had begged off their win celebration after one drink with the guys and headed to his room for a quiet night. He expected to start seeing the group chat explode with pictures from the Haus Halloween kegster soon - it sounded like they’d been waiting to really get things started after Jack’s game was done. The fact that Jack couldn’t be at the kegster this year had been sad, given that Bitty was now...well. Given everything. 

Bitty had promised him a surprise, though, in lieu of his presence.  And that surprise happened to hit his phone just as he was exiting the hotel elevator on his floor. He opened the image in group chat. And staggered a bit against the wall, then looked around nervously to see if anyone had caught him, excuse at the ready. 

There was no one around, so Jack let himself into his hotel room and shucked off his jacket. 

**Jack:** Haha. Nice.

It was literally the only thing he could think to write without totally giving them away. 

Bitty had certainly delivered on the prize. The puck bunny outfit hit Jack in the gut like a jackhammer. It was the perfect blend of innocent and raunchy - a blend that was so absolutely Eric R. Bittle, it stole Jack’s breath. 

Bitty was the perfect Southern gentleman - up until he wasn’t. And Jack had been witness to the many, many times he wasn’t. 

_ Crisse. _

Jack slipped out of his suit and into pajamas, his cock aching the entire time. He imagined Bitty’s perfect little ass making the cottontail twitch, imagined Bitty dancing in the Haus living room between Ransom and Holster. Wished desperately he could be there, except if he  _ was _ there, he’d have to keep his hands off Bitty lest they out themselves. 

_ Crisse. _

He shoved those thoughts away and slipped into bed. Fiddling on his phone, he saved the photo like Bitty had showed him to do, then went to the folder he kept of Bitty’s selfies and photos. Sliding a little bit of lube on his hand, he pulled his cock from his pants and started to stroke. 

He had more photos of Bitty on his phone now than photos of anything or anyone else, but he liked it that way. Photos of Bitty laid out on the lake shore down in Georgia, the freckles on his chest visible. Photos of Bitty all wrapped up in a scarf and hat and coat and cupping a pumpkin spice latte in his hands. An extra special photo Jack had promised would never be made public, of Bitty, post-orgasm, on his bed in Providence, flushed and perfect and smiling coyly up at Jack. He remembered the moment, thinking he had to capture it, and Bitty had so nicely agreed. He’d just sucked Bitty off, and Bitty was spent, lying on his white sheets, the sunlight dappling over him. 

It was the best picture Jack would never show anyone. He was okay with keeping it to himself, though. 

He stroked himself idly as he remembered the moment, remembered taking Bitty’s cock all the way down, remembered the pleased little gasp Bitty made when he swallowed. The sound of wonder. 

He rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock, working at his slit and biting his lip. 

_ Incoming call from Bits. _

Jack almost dropped the phone as his hand paused below. Heart pounding, he slid the green bar to answer. “Hey, Bitty.” 

“‘Haha. Nice.’” Bitty sounded all kinds of Southern indignant as he threw Jack’s words back at him. “Is that all I get?” 

It took Jack’s tired, desire-addled brain several seconds to get that Bitty was teasing. His words were a little slurry, and he was in a relatively quiet place, from the lack of party background noise, and he was  _ teasing _ Jack. 

“What I really think, that’s just for me and you,” Jack murmured, flushing at Bitty’s pleased little giggle at that. 

“Well I came up to my room so it’s just me and you now, buddy.” Bitty gasped. “Oh wait - is it? Are you out with the guys? Is Poots in?”

“No, I’m in my room, and Poots is out, I was just- uh.” Belatedly, Jack shut up. 

“Just what? Was I interruptin’ something?”

Jack wasn’t quite sure where the high-pitched squeaking noise that erupted from him came out. “In a manner of speaking.”

“I see, I see, mhmm,” Bitty replied, very casually. 

“I was… masturbating.” 

“Mhmm,” Bitty repeated, his voice lower. “Tell me about it.” It was still supremely casual, and Jack almost wanted to laugh. 

“Are you-” 

“Oh you better believe it.” 

This time Jack did laugh, and so did Bitty. When they’d calmed down, Jack murmured, “I was looking at your picture. You look  _ amazing, _ bud. Wish I could be there.” 

“Wish you were here. I like your hand a lot better than mine.” Bitty hummed into the phone, and Jack imagined him sliding over his pretty cock, all flushed pink, like his chest got. 

“I was looking at the picture I took, in Providence. You know the one.” Jack turned the phone onto speaker and dropped it to the bed. Bitty’s voice would get him off faster than his picture would. 

Bitty’s laugh actually sounded embarrassed. 

“You’re beautiful, Bits,” Jack said, voice thick with desire as he swept over his cock again. 

“You should see you.”

“I’m not my type,” Jack joked. “Cute blondes named Eric Bittle are my type.” 

Bitty hummed again. “You are the sweetest thing, Jack Zimmermann. Are you stroking yourself for me?”

_ “Yes.” _

“Me, too, sweet pea. Thinking about your cock and how it feels against mine. Oh, or how it feels down my throat, I like that, too.” 

Jack groaned, palming over the head. “I like when you’re inside me,” he whispered, and Bitty’s moan was tinny over the speaker of the phone. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re all open and spread apart, Jack, I just can’t help it.” 

Jack was immediately transported to the last time Bitty had fingered him open, just a week ago. He was already craving it again. He whimpered, hand shuttling fast now. 

“Or how you make that noise, just like that, right before you come under me, god, Jack, you look so good when you come, all relaxed and happy and satisfied.” 

“Bitty-” Jack gasped his name out as he came all over his hand. “Bits. God.” 

On the other side of the phone, Bitty was breathing heavily and humming and “Oh, Jack”ing, the way he did when he came. 

Jack waited until things had gotten relatively silent again. “I love you, Eric.” 

Bitty’s breath caught a little. “I love you, too, Jack. When do I get to see you again? Friday, right?”

“Yeah, we get back Friday. You don’t have a test or anything?”

“I should bring my French flashcards.” Jack practically saw Bitty wrinkle his nose at that. 

“You’re getting better.” 

“I sound stupid.” 

“You’re getting better,” Jack insisted. “I still think you should take maman up on her offer to help study over Skype, she’d love that. She loves you.” 

“Maybe,” Bitty said, noncommittally. There was a loud noise, muffled through the phone. “Oh lordy, I better go see what they’re getting into now.” He heard Bitty shuffle around. “I love you, sweet pea.” 

“I love you. Have fun. I’ll see you next weekend.” 

With a few kissing noises, Bitty was gone, and Jack was left with the lasting feeling of warmth that Bitty always gave him. Smiling, he rose to clean up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are highly appreciated. 
> 
> @animalasaysrauer on tumblr


End file.
